The One No One Claimed
by FBICriminalMinds
Summary: Despite having just wrapped up a case, the BAU are needed once again. This time they have a serial killer on their hands, whom has a disturbing obsession with young girls. An AMBER alert has been issued, and the race is on to find the unSub and his victims. What happens when they're found, and why is nobody claiming the last girl. Morgan-centric. No slash
1. A Long Night

**"People find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than for being right" – Albus Dumbledore**

* * *

><p>"Hey Baby Girl" Derek Morgan answered his phone. The team had just finished a case in Kentucky and he was exhausted. Pursuing a family annihilator they had tracked him through several towns. The case had ended with a tally of six families wiped out, one dead serial killer, too much casework and a multitude of bruises on Derek Morgan's abdomen.<p>

After being dropped off at his house by Hotch Morgan wanted nothing else than to sleep. The flight had be turbulent and no one had gotten any shuteye. Tanked up on the remaining painkillers in his blood since before the flight and sporting a patchwork of colouring bruises he had fumbled with his keys, almost dropping them before he unlocked the house. Stumbling into the lounge he had just sunk painfully into his favourite armchair when his phone had rung.

"Derek Morgan, you better have a dam good reason for not returning to the office so I could make sure you're okay" Garcia scolded gently.

"Penelope, I am about to pass out from lack of sleep so please, for the love of god, say what you have to say but do not say there's another case" Morgan pleaded.

"I'm sorry Sugar, it just popped up and it's urgent. Hotch is on his way to pick you up now. You'll be briefed on the plane"

"Thanks Garcia"

"Hey, you know I love you"

"Love you too. See you when we get back" Morgan grimaced as he hung up.

Groaning he heaved himself out of his chair and into his bedroom, upending his go bag upside with one hand before filling it with clean clothes from his chest of drawers. Sorting through the dirty clothes now spread on the floor he repacked everything else.

"Come in Hotch" he yelled as he heard a series of raps on the front door.

Hotch walked through the house, coming to a stop in the doorway of Morgan's bedroom.

"You ready?"

Without zipping up his go bag Morgan picked up the strap. "Two seconds".

He sidled past Hotch, pulling his gear without lifting it, into the kitchen and grabbed a box of muesli bars, chucking them into the open bag.

"Now I'm good".

Hotch kept a blank face, watching as Morgan bent over to zip up his bag. As Morgan did so his face contorted.

"Morgan" he said quietly.

"I'm good" Morgan muttered, straightening up with the bag hanging on his shoulder.

Patting his pockets for the keys his face mirrored the confusion he felt. Where had he last put them again?

Hotch answered this internal question by holding up the key ring.

"Where did I leave those?"

"In the door". Hotch motioned for Morgan to leave, already following the tall African American out of the house before locking it securely and dropping the keys into Morgan's palm.

"What's the case Hotch?" Morgan queried, dumping his bag on the back seat.

"Not sure. I didn't even make it into my office before Garcia intercepted me and sent me back to get you"

"Serial Killers don't stop for anybody" Morgan replied thoughtfully, getting into the car and buckling up with a slight wince.

Hotch didn't reply. "When did you last take painkillers?" he asked, Morgan more on his mind than the case they were heading to.

"Before we left Kentucky"

"What was it?"

"Ibuprofen" he admitted sheepishly.

"Morgan, I can't have you performing below your usual standards. I need you at your peak".

"Look Hotch. We just got off the plane. I was going to have a shower and get into bed and sleep, preferably until lunch tomorrow, but my plans were cut short. What do you want me to do about it man?" Morgan fired back, the lack of sleep and increasing pain getting to him.

Hotch nodded. "Take some more once we board" he directed, and said no more.

Morgan nodded, leaning back in his seat ad shutting his eyes, hoping for ten minutes rest.

* * *

><p>He must have nodded off because when he next opened his eyes the car had stopped and they were parked on the tarmac. Hotch was talking JJ, but Morgan was relieved to see that Emily and Reid had not yet made it.<p>

Morgan pushed open his door and stiffly made his way over to the team leader and liaison. He stumbled slightly, alerting the other two to his presence.

"Nice of you to join us" JJ teased with a bit of a grin. "Sleeping on the job might get you fired"

"If I'm being honest I could have done with a bit more" Morgan confessed, leaning slightly against JJ's car.

"You can sleep on the plane" Hotch said as the Prentiss and Reid turned up in the last SUV.

"Sorry we're late" Reid apologized as they boarded the plane.

"We're all a little disorganized tonight" Hotch excused them. Morgan headed to the nearest seat.

"Hotch, can we wait to do the briefing man?" I'm sure wherever we're going…"

"San Diego" JJ cut across. "The case is in San Diego. It's about 5 hours flying time so I'm sure we'll have time to brief after we all get some much needed sleep".

"Thanks JJ" Morgan murmured, his eyes already sliding shut again.

"Morgan" Hotch shook him. "Don't go to sleep just yet".

"Why?"

"Take these" Hotch popped two prescription painkillers into Morgan's palm. A drink bottle was passed to Hotch and in turn to Morgan who downed the meds.

"You know, the average human sleeps around 9 hours a day" Reid said, looking at his watch. "Looking at the last time you slept, I would estimate that in the past 4 days you have had a total of 16 hours".

"Thanks kid" Morgan mumbled, already drifting off with the help of the painkillers. Prentiss shook her head and clipped Morgan's belt in as the pilot made the usual announcement about buckling in for the take-off.

"Hey Hotch" she pondered quietly as they all did up their belts at the next table. "Does anything seem off about Morgan to you?"

"You mean the lack of energy and the fact he hasn't once put up a fight?"

Prentiss nodded. "He just seems so un-Morgan".

"I think the fatigue is just catching up to him" Hotch speculated. "It's been a long week and we all have those times when we are physically and mentally so exhausted. He'll be fine, just give him some time. I'm going to put him on desk duty. I wouldn't have brought him but this case is in his area of expertise".

JJ nodded. "It happens to the best of us".

* * *

><p>The plane levelled after take-off and the team all dispersed to their favourite seats.<p>

Morgan sat with his head on his arms at one of the tables.

"JJ" Reid whispered.

"What?"

"Go wake Morgan up"

"Why?" she hissed.

"Because being hunched over isn't good for his chest"

"Why can't you do it?" she objected.

"Because he's less likely to get angry if you wake him up".

"He had a fair point" Prentiss pointed out.

JJ glared at the two of them before putting down her book and getting out of her seat.

"Morgan" she whispered softly. Morgan stirred but didn't move.

She called his name a little louder. "Derek!"

"What?" he slurred.

"Go lie down on the couch"

"M'fine"

"Derek. Just do it for me, please?"

Morgan tried to rise but found a belt across his lap. Fumbling for the release button his movements were clumsy, sleep filled. JJ quietly pressed the release button.

"Thanks JJ" he said sleepily.

She moved out of the way as Morgan stumbled towards the couch with his eyes half shut. JJ smiled. Morgan could never handle prescription painkillers well.

He sunk onto the recommended seat, groaning as he moved to try and get comfortable. Lying down Morgan attempted to swing his legs up but his abdomen was having none of it.

"Shit!" he hissed between clenched teeth, his jaw tight.

"I've got it Derek" JJ soothed, swinging the older man's legs up onto the couch. Removing his shoes she frowned as his eyes slid shut once more. Morgan was never like this.

"Try not to move too much" she advised, draping one of the blankets kept in the lockers above over him.

Morgan mumbled something incomprehensible before falling asleep once again.


	2. Theories

The team was sleeping peacefully before turbulence awoke them four hours into their flight. Reid was the first to rise. The tousled haired genius made his way to the end of the aeroplane and flicked the switch on the coffee. Hotch was the next to rise, tiredly straightening up from his position behind the table.

"Time for the briefing" he spoke.

Morgan blinked blearily. "What time is it?"

"Just after four" Reid piped up, leaning against the counter.

"Girls, time to move" Hotch addressed the two sleeping forms leaning against each other.

"Five, more, minutes" Emily murmured.

"We'll be in San Diego in an hour. JJ, if you would start the briefing" Hotch said, making his way towards the coffee Reid had commandeered.

"Grab me a cup Pretty Boy" Morgan called down the plane. Bending down to put his boots back on he met heavy resistance from the dispersed colouring on his stomach.

"Morgan, do you think that if you were missing both arms you'd still attempt to do up your laces?" Prentiss joked as the hefty agent struggled.

Morgan light-heartedly scowled at the raven haired women as he gave up on the laces, leaning back in the seat and taking the cup of coffee offered to him by Reid.

"Could we please start?" Hotch asked, glad his agent was back on his feet.

As the files were handed round JJ began, opening the folder onto a photo of a young girl. She had slightly crooked teeth and brown hair glistening in a French braid.

"This is Kara Hughes, Age 12. She was discovered by local joggers in Mission Trails Regional Park. Signs of physical abuse were found, but so far no sexual trauma. The reason we've been called in is because this is the fourth young girl to be found, and three in the past month have gone missing, but not yet found. The others ages range from 10 to 12 and are a mix of races. Caucasian, African American, Mexican. The unsub doesn't base victimology on race. The girls were all snatched while walking home from school. Witnesses describe our unsub as a male of medium build, dressed in black in a grey van. No description of the driver."

"The unsub's signature is the way in which the girls have been dressed. All these girls have been remarkably well taken care of, aside from the abuse. Although they have been beaten it seems as though someone took the time to care for their wounds. This girl…" Rossi pointed at a photo of one of the victims, "She has a cast on. And look at how they're dressed. The nice clothing they're wearing" Rossi finished thoughtfully.

"It doesn't fit. The rage, but the remorse. We could be dealing with two unsubs" Morgan theorized.

Reid reflected on this piece of information. "You know, it could be a couple. The clothing the girls are wearing looks like something a woman would pick out. It's all matching. But the marks look like hands bigger than a woman's".

JJ nodded in agreement. "Reid's right. When Will dresses Henry he dresses him in the first things he can find. I take the time to make sure that his socks match, his pants go with his shirt and so on". She smiled, remembering the time she arrived home to find Henry decked out all in red, from his shirt to his gumboots.

"Prentiss, Reid, when we land I want you to go to the latest crime scene. JJ, you talk to the family of the latest victim. Rossi, Morgan and I will go to the field office" Hotch decided.

"Hotch, why do I go to the field office. That's normally Reid's job" Morgan protested.

"You're on desk duty until further notice"

"Hotch, come on man, _I'm fine_" Morgan insisted, emphasizing the last two words.

"Morgan, you can't even do up your own laces. You're sporting an impressive number of bruises and while you won't admit it, you're hurting. Until I say otherwise, you're resting and going over theories in the office".

* * *

><p>The plane touched down a short while later and the team disembarked, dispersing towards the four SUV's ready on the tarmac.<p>

Morgan watched the team leave to their various locations before getting into the last vehicle with Hotch. Still holding a little resentment towards Hotch he did not say much.

They drove in silence, following Rossi in the SUV in front until Hotch broke the quiet.

"What're your thoughts on the unsub?" he asked.

Morgan was jerked out of his own thoughts. "What?"

"The unsub. You specialise in fixations and obsessive crimes".

"We won't know much until we talk to the lead detective, but unsubs that take children are normally paedophilic. Everything so far points towards the theory that this couple aren't".

Morgan went back to staring out the window as Hotch processes what Morgan had just said.

They remained in silence for the rest of the ride until they pulled up outside the field office. Walking into the office it was clear that there was desperation among the fellow agents.

Hotch and Morgan were approached by a gentleman in his early thirties with brown hair.

"You must be the team sent by the BAU. I'm Agent Charlie Woods. Thank you for coming" he said extending his hand. It was gripped in a firm handshake by both agents.

"It's a pleasure to be here, I just wish it was under different circumstances" Hotch expressed to the San Diego agent.

"We've set up the conferencing room for you. I hope it has all you need" Agent Woods said, leading them through the building to a room on the far side of the second floor. It was tucked away in the corner. Inside there was a large white board, along with all the case files.

"This will be perfect" Hotch assured him.

Rossi set up their various equipment as Hotch began to piece together what little information they had on the board and Morgan called Garcia.

"You've reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI's Office of Supreme Genius" came the cherry voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey Baby Girl"

"My chocolate god, what can I do for you on this fine morning?" Garcia chirped.

"Whatcha got on the victims momma?"

"All girls came from different backgrounds, a mixture of race and age. All held signs of abuse, nothing out of the ordinary unless you think that beating little girls up before dressing them and trying to fix them is ordinary then…."

"I know momma" Morgan reassured.

"Good, as long as you know. To get anything else you'll need to give me something to work with. Take care of yourself. Now, hand me to Hotch" Garcia instructed, being unusually short with Morgan.

Morgan looked bemused. "She wants to talk to you" he said, handing Hotch the phone.

Hotch took the phone and held it to his ear. Morgan watched him as Hotch listened to whatever she was saying.

"Uhuh, okay, yes. You have my word Garcia. Okay, I'll make sure to. Okay."

Hotch hung up and looked at Morgan. "She wants me to promise that I will make you sleep, not over exert yourself and make sure you will never get hurt again".

Morgan cracked a grin.

"Good luck with that task" he laughed quietly.


	3. Getting Somewhere

Four hours later the whole team re-grouped in the conference room. Reid and Prentiss had picked up little at the latest crime scene and JJ had learnt nothing valuable from the parents of the latest victim. Rossi was busy talking to the detective in charge.

"I can see why they can't catch these guys. They're virtually untraceable" Morgan said.

"Not really" JJ suddenly though back to the cases. The team watched as she pulled out her phone and called Garcia.

"Garcia I want you to check the brand of clothing the girls were wearing".

"Sure can Pumpkin. I can now tell you that they were wearing…" the team could hear her fingers flying over the keyboard, "…wait. They didn't have tags. No trace of them being cut off"

"Thanks Garcia" JJ sighed, she had thought they might be able to trace the branding back to stores.

"Wait, Garcia can you try to trace the dresses back to patterns? They were all identical so maybe she's sewing them" Morgan asked, just before JJ hung up.

"I think you might have hit the nail right smack bang on the head Tiger" Garcia bantered.

"The pattern used to make this dress was the 7954 Simplicity Pattern in 1970. The pattern was unpopular, although I can't imagine why because I think it's kind of cute. Only 100 copies were sold, being only in the state of New York. When the vintage fashion became popular they printed another batch, this time being sold all over the country. 60 were sold in the state of California, with 20 being sold in San Diego"

"Morgan, how come you had that idea, not us girls?" Prentiss asked.

"Two sisters, one income, Chicago" Morgan stated. "Momma had to make a lot of Sarah and Desiree's clothes. They loved that style of clothing"

"Send us those 20 addresses Garcia" Hotch said.

"Will do sir. Bidding you all a very successful day" Garcia trilled before the phone cut off.

Seconds later there was a chorus of vibrations as the team received the addresses of the shops where the patterns had been sold. Morgan grimaced as he reached into his pocket, the movement tugging on his chest.

"Actually, now JJ has talked about the clothes I see something" Prentiss remarked, lining up the photos of the girls from the first victim to the last. "The dresses, does anyone notice something about them?"

The team looked at her blankly.

"The craftsmanship. In the first dress the seams are slightly crooked, and it's not put together so well. As the dresses progress the quality gets better."

"Okay, it's 5:30pm. The unsubs snatch one girl a week, and since one was snatched three days ago we still have time. We need a geographical profile of where they operate" Hotch proposed.

"If I triangulate where the bodies were found, along with the schools and the area from which they were taken we should get an area. Then we can match the addresses given and hopefully catch them on security footage" Reid said.

"We're going to call it a night. Let's all go check into a hotel, recover and tomorrow we can catch the unsubs" Hotch decided.

No one disagreed, all secretly hoping to catch up on some much needed sleep.

* * *

><p>They checked into a close high-rise hotel, a modest establishment with walnut panelling and golden lighting.<p>

Morgan wandered towards the windows in the room he was to share with Reid for their time in San Diego. The cooling air was welcome to the sturdy agent who was running a slight fever.

"Why does Hotch always get to share with Rossi?" Reid whined, wishing he could share with someone a little less messy than Morgan.

"What, you don't like sharing with me Pretty boy? Morgan grinned, knowing full well that Reid was not a fan of mess.

Reid wisely chose not to say anything to exacerbate the situation, instead sitting down on his bed with a sigh of contentment and opening his new book.

With Reid not about to bite to the teasing Morgan moved into the bathroom and pulled up his shirt in the mirror, trying not to aggravate the stabbing pains that were being felt.

As he properly looked at the bruising for the first time he was shocked to realise how bad it was. The unsub at the last case had been a rather bulky man, one who had given Morgan a run for his money when it came to taking him down. A mottled yellow stripe ran across his chest where he had been slammed into a pipe while trying to reach his weapon, the Kevlar had not protected him from the impact. Morgan also counted one, two, three darker patches where the unsub had shot at him before Morgan had managed to retrieve his gun stop the unsub once and for all.

"You know, you're lucky the bullets didn't pierce you" came Reid's voice from across the room. Morgan turned to see that the genius had laid down his book and was watching him examine his injuries.

"Our Kevlar's are not actually bullet proof, hence why the bullets don't ricochet. They are only bullet resistant. If that unsub had had better aim and grouped the bullets a little closer the fabric wouldn't have held and you would most certainly be in hospital, not standing there".

Morgan dropped his shirt and looked at Reid sarcastically. "Thank you for that piece of general knowledge"

He crossed the room towards Reid and groaned as he lowered himself onto his bed.

"Being shot is getting old" he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Are you not having any dinner?" Reid looked over Morgan as he lay still.

"I'm gonna skip tonight. You go. We can continue our lessons on how to pick up girls another day" Morgan opened one eye and managed a cheekily grin, but it was a little weaker than usual and Reid could tell it lacked the usual mischief.

"You can't fool me. I know you're sore. You should eat to keep up your strength. You'll heal faster then" Reid ignored the dig at his love life, instead looking at his friend concernedly as he got ready for dinner.

"And what?" Morgan's attitude changed in an instant. He hated people worrying about him.

"Nothing" Reid sighed. "Take your painkillers and get some sleep"

He placed the abandoned bottle from the agent's bag on Morgan's bedside table and left the room, shutting the door quietly and knocking on the door next to his one. JJ and Prentiss emerged, as did Hotch who had been talking to JJ about Jack.

"Where's Morgan?" Hotch asked.

"In our room. He's got a fair bit of bruising. I think he just needs to sleep and recover"

Hotch nodded as Reid shared this piece of information.

"I'll check on him when we get back" Hotch told Reid, almost smiling at the relief on the genius's face. Reid could never profile emotions as well as the rest of them.


	4. Hurting

Laughter accompanied the five BAU agents as they arrived back on their floor.

"And then I asked if we could see his badge, and he said that is was classified. So I get out mine and go 'tell me Brad, does it look anything like this?' and hold up my badge, then JJ and Garcia both do the same. You should have seen his face, he looked like a stunned mullet" Prentiss tried to contain her laughter as they started passing doors.

"Kicking criminal ass" JJ choked, sending both girls into fits of giggles again. Rossi, Reid and Hotch were all grinning as they stopped outside the girls' room.

"Try to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day. We'll meet in the foyer at seven." Hotch smiled, watching them enter their room still snickering.

As Rossi too bid them goodnight Hotch followed Reid into his room, wanting to check on his senior agent before he turned in for the night.

Morgan lay sprawled on his bed on his back. His shirt had slipped up slightly, exposing some of the bruising that ran across the lower part of his abdomen. His shoes were scattered next to his bed, obviously having been kicked off. As Reid and Hotch got closer they could see a fine layer of sweat had formed across the agents' brow.

"Did he take any painkillers before you left?" Hotch asked the young genius quietly.

Reid shook his head. "I put them on his bedside table and told him to take them"

Hotch nodded understandingly. It was extremely hard to get Morgan to do things against his will.

"Are you going to wake him?" Reid asked nervously, not keen on the idea at all.

Before Hotch had time to answer Morgan stirred and opened his eyes groggily.

"Reid?" he groaned, fumbling for his phone, not being able to make out the figures at the end of his bed.

"It's just after nine" Hotch said, as way of telling Morgan he was also in the room.

"Why're you back?" Morgan tried to sit up but Hotch quickly stopped him from moving too fast.

"Lean forward slowly" he told the injured agent. As Morgan did so Hotch placed Reid's pillows behind his back.

'Next time get Reid to investigate… the rooftop" Morgan gasped in-between breaths, his eyes tearing as he fought the pain.

"Here" Reid held a glass of water and two painkillers near Morgan's head.

Morgan took the glass with shaking hands and downed the painkillers.

"Reid, 's cold" he shivered as cold chills suddenly overcame the agent.

Hotch laid two fingers against Morgan neck, only to find a racing pulse.

"Reid, can you find two Panadol?" he asked.

Reid rummaged in his go bag and found the requested medicine.

"Morgan can you open your mouth for me?" Hotch tested.

Morgan opened his mouth half way, allowing Hotch to drop in the tablets and pour in a little water before he swallowed.

" 'm cold" he shivered again.

"Morgan" Hotch tapped him on the shoulder. "You're running a temperature. I need to get your shirt off, can you lift your arms?"

"The temperature is nothing to be concerned about Hotch" Reid reassured the team leader. "Temperatures are often run after experiencing trauma to the body. Combined with lack of sleep and not taking his painkillers I'd be worried if he wasn't running one. It'll be gone by morning".

"Thank you Reid" Hotch said, grateful for his youngest agents' wealth of knowledge.

Hotch pulled off Morgan's shirt carefully as he drowsily raised his arms, revealing the darkening bruises. Covering his agent in the blanket he watched as Morgan drifted back to sleep, his eyes fluttering a few times before they slid fully shut.

"If anything changes come and get me" Hotch told Reid who had retired to his bed to watch Morgan.

Reid nodded and turned on the bedside light, switching off the main light once Hotch had left the room.

* * *

><p>Hotch slowly returned to his room, thinking hard.<p>

"So?" Rossi was sitting up in bed, typing on his laptop.

"Morgan is going to sit the rest of this one out. We've almost cornered the unsubs anyway. The local field office just didn't scrutinise the case hard enough"

Rossi snorted "I hope you've told Morgan you're sitting him out"

"I can't. He's currently running a temperature and sleeping. Make no mistake, he will know, and he will sit it out. I trialled him in the office and he's still come out sick"

"Well, it's good to know you're managing to keep them in line. You don't even need me" Rossi said.

"Thanks for the support. You'll be the one talking to Morgan when he leaves pissed that I won't let him finish the case" Hotch warned.


End file.
